


Panda Falls

by loserchic, squidiculous



Category: South Park
Genre: Alien Invasion, F/M, Gen, High School, M/M, Multi, Puberty, Sexual Misconduct, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:57:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3955087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loserchic/pseuds/loserchic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidiculous/pseuds/squidiculous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the shift to high school, Butters has more trouble than ever trying to navigate his life and various social situations. It only gets worse after Cartman convinces him everyone else is an alien.</p><p>Kenny chapters by loserchic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Butters: Uncomfortable

Butters has no clue what's going on. Their class starts high school next week, and suddenly Clyde Donovan wants to hang out. Butters has invited him to tons of things over the summer. Butters asks everyone to do things with him. And Clyde has always said, "Uh, no thanks."

Now they're sitting in Clyde's bedroom, playing video games, and Clyde keeps hitting pause to say, "Did you hear that?"

Butters says, "Hear what, Clyde?"

Unpause.

Pause.

"Did you hear that?"

"I don't hear nothin, Clyde." 

After a couple hours of shooting zombies, going to foreign lands to shoot locals, and shooting aliens, Clyde turns off the console and says, "Uh, okay, Butters. How bout we play the quiet game?" Said in a dull, nasally voice, it's not really a question.

"Well, sure, if you want."

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

On the phone, Butters says, "The weirdest thing happened today." Then he remembers that Clyde made him promise not to tell anyone they were hanging out.

"Oh. Uh," he says. "Nothin."

Butters frowns. "Is something the matter?" He's bouncing a toy panda on his desk and feeling childish for it. 

"Whaddya mean?" In his confusion he makes the bear fall to the floor. He turns on speaker phone and sets his cell on the desk so he can scoot the chair back and bend down. 

From the phone comes a sigh. Then a voice, tired and somewhat exasperated: "We don't really have anything in common, Butters. Except that our alter egos were once partners in minor mayhem." There's an expectant pause. "I'm not saying we can't be friends." There's another pause, longer. 

Butters, sitting upright again, stares at the phone. It says, with a sense of finality, "But I don't think we can be." 

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Minutes later Butters is on his computer, looking at Facebook. The number in the red box over Eric Cartman's name keeps growing. A sense of dread grows with it, but Butters says to himself, "Well you can wait a minute, Eric." When the number becomes a two digit it starts to look particularly angry. "He can just hold his horses. I only logged on a minute ago." 

Seeing Dougie's links to news articles makes him sad, but he hits like on them anyway. 

Stan and Kyle, who have started using Facebook out of convenience, are talking about sports. Butters used to be into that sort of thing. At least he thought he was. Now he doesn't really care much about sports. 

Clyde has posts that brag about him working out all day. Butters knows he hasn't.

Butters swipes to ignore Eric's call, and the phone stops ringing. 

Kenny has been tagged in several pictures from a party Butters didn't hear about. While scrolling through them Butters is hit with a completely alien feeling. 

Kenny is shown drinking. Butters would be so grounded if he did that. But with his parents, Kenny can probably get away with it. 

One picture shows Kenny making out with Red. Butters hasn't had a kiss in a long time, and never one like that. Their tongues are out, Red's arms are around Kenny's neck, and his hands are on her ...

And it appears that at some point Kenny lost his shirt. Seeing Kenny like that does funny things to Butters's head. 

He almost feels faint, until he answers the phone this time and hears shouting. " _Hamb'gers_." The panda falls off the desk again. 

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Butters has no clue what's going on. Eric's fevered explanation is bewildering, so Butters is in the dark even before he has on the blindfold. 

This is familiar, and he's starting to feel uneasy. Then he feels something on his mouth. Pulling his blindfold off, he says, "What was-- What just happened?"

"Nothing, Butters. Nothing. Put the blindfold back on."

Seconds later Butters grabs the blindfold, ready to pull it back down. "Are you takin embarrassin pictures o me with your phone again?" 

"No, Butters, it's like I told you."

"Right. ... And what was that you told me again?"

Butters feels a poke. He starts to pull at the blindfold.

"Leave it, Butters. Think of what the aliens will do to us."

"I--"

He feels another poke and says, "I'm not comfortable with this. Can I go home, Eric?"

"Relax, Butters. If this works, you'll be known as the savior of mankind. So just hold still."

When he feels Eric's hand at his crotch he jumps. "What the heck do you need to do that for?"

Butters hears nothing. After a long moment he slowly removes his blindfold. It takes a few seconds to understand what he's seeing. Eric's face has turned red. And there's something making his pants stick out a little below his waist.

"Eric!"

Gradually, Eric recovers, his complexion returning to its usual pastiness. "I apologize if you feel any discomfort, Butters, but I assure you, this is absolutely necessary. You'll be a hero. The world will th--"

Butters throws the blindfold down--a tepid display. "To heck with the stinkin world. Find someone else to be your hero," he says, and storms off.

Or tries to--Eric grabs his arm. Butters sees a number of expressions flicker on his face. Finally, Eric speaks, his voice low and grim:

"It's happening, Butters. A week from today. Meet me in the bomb shelter, no later than 8PM, if you want to live."

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

"Welcome home, Butters." Mrs. Stotch is dusting in the living room. "Where have you been?" His father is also eyeing him from beyond the doorway to the kitchen.

"Just bein recruited for another bogus mission." Butters closes the front door. 

"End of the world, dear?"

"Yeah-ah."

"That's nice." She's not looking at the real Butters; only the versions in the portraits she's swiping with feathers. "When do you want to do your school shopping?"

"Tomorrow, I guess."

Butters moves to the kitchen to check the cat's food bowl. "Hi, Dad. What are we doing for supper?" 

Mr. Stotch ruffles the newspaper in which his face is buried. "Hamburger Helper okay, Son?"

"Sure, Dad.

"Dad?"

No movement. "Yes, Son?"

Butters looks for a long moment at the newspaper hiding his father.

"Never mind."

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

By the time Butters returns to his bedroom he mostly forgets the conversation he almost initiated with his father and everything that made it feel necessary. The names of his classmates, who will soon surround him again, repeat in his head, a mantra of gleeful anticipation. 

_Stan, Kyle, Eric and Kenny. Jimmy, Clyde, Token, Craig. Wendy, Bradley, Kevin. ... Red._

Somehow, thinking of Red gives Butters a bad feeling. He decides to avoid it. He thinks instead of the high school building. He never paid much attention to it and wonders what it is like inside. He imagines the bus ride, the quick search for a seat. The high school and middle school aren't far apart. He realizes that the year he stops riding the middle school bus is the year Dougie starts riding it. They haven't ridden a bus together in a couple years already, and it will be a couple more before they do again.

Butters decides not to think about Dougie either. Going back to the list of names he's happy to think about, he notes that it's more than two names shorter after today. He picks up the panda and uses it as a way to temporarily empty his head. Then he gets on Facebook again and posts about his excitement to be starting high school.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

"That's me."

Tune in next time for more awkward interactions.


	2. Kenny: Turnt Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Hey all- Loserchic here. My gay is writing this fic and I’m guest writing in it as Kenny-badass-McCormick. Most of it will be them- I'll just pop in occasionally. I have a spiritual connection with this character I don’t expect anyone to understand. XOXO.))

Duct tape and a forty. Shit dude. One minute you’re drag racing against Token’s rich-as-pussy-shit Benz with Fatass riding shotgun the next thing you know you have no idea where your shirt is and your mouth tastes like tacos and Red. And the only reason you know it’s Red and not some other random-ass bitch is Twitter. 

The pounding hangover Kenny’s got is perfectly on par with the bass in his speaker system as he drives up to school and Kenny can’t tell if he’s living the dream or if it’s a nightmare the way his head is going off. Or if it’s a Tuesday. Fuck. If it’s a Tuesday, was he supposed to be in summer school yesterday? Is that a thing? He and Stan had fucked around in Algebra so much last year they’d been forced to take the class over again during the summer. It sucked hardcore.

Kenny rolls into a parking spot, opens the door and vomits onto the asphalt. At fifteen he’s technically not even supposed to be driving by himself but the administration of the bum-fuck school has bigger things to worry about than the tow-headed freshmen with a fake ID. Everyone in this small-ass town knows his dad and mom are too loaded to drive him to school anyways. Out here he’s just Mr. American Reality. A mom who got knocked up and then life knocked her down shit-sideways. A dad who got laid off like, a fucking decade ago and still can’t find work or Kenny’s older brother. And a little sister who deserves better. Kenny hauls his ass off the couch during prime hangover time to get her on the bus every morning during the school year. 

Kenny cracks a bottle of water he bought along with a Red Bull at the gas station that morning and pounds it. He then double fists the energy drink and gets out of his car, hauling his orange backpack after him. 

Kenny hauls ass to the room where their remedial studies are taking place and slumps in next to Stan. 

“Hey Kenny.” Stan says over his math textbook. 

“I need a cigarette, dude.” Kenny smirks. 

“Those things will kill you, you know.” Stan rolls his eyes. 

“Not fucking fast enough, they won’t.” Kenny mutters, his head encased in his orange hood, horizontal on the desk. 

“Fatass said you got turnt last night.” Stan notes, scribbling something on his notebook. 

“The only reason why Bitch-tits can hold his liquor so well is because he’s a fucking whale.” Kenny grumbles. 

“Yeah.” Stan nods. “I told him that.” 

“I was good.” Ken mutters. 

“Yeah?” Stan says. “He posted like a million pictures. You looked... busy.”

“He’s such an attention whore.” Kenny groans. “And that’s only because he’s too fucking fat to be a real whore.” 

“Yeah.” Stan chuckles again. 

“He is such a fucking weird-ass.” Kenny continues, his voice muffled through his hood. “Kept going on and on about aliens or some shit like that. I thought he’d drugged me or something but I think he was probably serious.”

“Aliens?” Stan raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah.” Kenny digs another water bottle out of his bag.

“Again?” 

“Probably.” Kenny shrugs. “Something to do with Butters.”

“What is it with him and Butters?” Stan turns back to his homework. 

“I don’t fucking know.” Kenny shrugs. “And I’m too fucking sober to think about it.”

“Sober, huh?” Stan asks, looking dubious. “Is hung-over your sober now?” 

“Good point.” Kenny smirks. “If I’d just stay loaded I’d never be hung-over. Life hack, dude.”

“I don’t think that’s the way it works, man.” Stan shakes his head, laughing.

“You try to deal with Cartman and aliens dude and then you can judge.” Kenny mutters. “You should tell Butters to block Fatass’s number.” 

“Why do I have to tell Butters to stop talking to Cartman?” Stan says. “You tell him.”

“I got work.” Kenny says. 

“Well I’m not going to tell him.” Stan says. “I have football.”

“Then get Kyle to tell him.” Kenny says. “He loves telling people what to do.”

“That’s not fair, man.” Stan says. “Kyle’s just sick of Cartman’s bullshit.”

“He’s been bitching about Cartman since we were kids, dude.” Kenny laughs. “And he still hangs out with him.”

“You were joyriding with him just last night!” Stan says.

“I was hammered.” Kenny says. “It doesn’t count. And I don’t even think we were together all night- wait, no. We got tacos as some point. We were probably together for that.” 

“Well I don’t know what he’s up to and I don’t want to know.” Stan says. “I’m staying the hell out of this.” 

“Whatever.” Kenny says. “Hey, is that the thing she assigned us last week?” Kenny indicated Stan’s paper.

“Yeah.” Stan says.

“Give me it when you’re done.” Kenny says. “I didn’t get to it last night.”

“Whatever dude.” Stan laughs.


	3. Butters: Impending

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Butters sits on the door to the bomb shelter, not sure whether he can make himself go down. The wind ruffles his bright undercut as he watches the twilight fade. Thinking about the impending decision makes him too anxious, so he thinks instead about what has happened over the past week.

Tuesday he felt the need to visit a petting zoo. Stan couldn't go with him, on account of he was still making up for last year's math class. Kyle was all irritation and impatience but tried to sound polite. For some reason he didn't call Kenny. Jimmy was having a procedure done, and Token was grounded. When he called Clyde he got the usual reply: "No thanks, Butters."  And Craig didn't answer his phone.

To his surprise, Wendy agreed to go with him. Adding to the surprise, Clyde called back, said he changed his mind. When Clyde, approaching Butters, saw Wendy with him, he turned around. The late summer sun lit the petting zoo too well for him to go unseen, and Wendy called out: "Hey, Clyde. Hang out with us."

Butters remembers Clyde's nervous smile and laugh. Their trio bought food pellets and walked around, Clyde tossing his while Butters and Wendy hand fed the animals. The llamas were funny to Clyde, because they were llamas. Wendy recited facts about animal habitats and behavior, which the boys immediately forgot. And Butters absolutely frolicked.

A white goat shouted at Butters's approach. Butters echoed its bleating, with a sound more like laughter than anything else.

"I always like the goats best of all," he said as he put a hand on the goat's hard, bony head. Smiling at Clyde while he pet the coarse, white fur, Butters said, "Touch him, Clyde. He won't hurt you."

"No way." Clyde turned away, a subtle attempt to hide his blushing. "I'm not touching that thing. Aren't goats the ones that eat boulders?"

"Maybe _other goats_ eat boulders, Clyde," Wendy said, her friendly tone turning so condescending it hurt Butters to hear it. Then just like that her voice was gentle again. "But this goat is obviously accustomed to a diet of these food pellets." She held a handful under his mouth, and the goat devoured it.

Butters followed suit, and after eating the second handful the goat's mouth erupted with a scream that Clyde did not recognize as glee:

"BLAAAH."

Then Wendy laughed, watching Clyde's panicked retreat to the petting zoo entrance.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Butters called home to say he was getting his school supplies with a couple of his classmates.

When he was back in his bedroom and checked Facebook he had a message from Kyle Broflovski: _I guess I'm supposed to tell you this. It seems obvious, but you should maybe not talk to Cartman again. Ever._

Butters replied: _What do you mean, Kyle?_

Kyle said: _You have to realize that he uses you, Butters. He's a manipulative, evil, fat bastard, and he knows that you'll do whatever he wants. Some people are sick of him getting away with it._

Wednesday Butters's parents found an excuse to ground him, took his phone, disconnected the Wi-Fi, and left him alone in the house. He spent the evening with the cat in his lap, watching television.

The rest of the week he did things like helping with supper. Doing chores. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Most of his excitement seemed lost, until it was the only thing keeping him going.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Butters doesn't like sneaking out, especially when he's grounded, but for the end of the world he makes an exception. If Eric's wrong about this, or just fibbing, Butters will not only be in big trouble with his mom and dad; he won't get enough sleep for the first day of school. Realizing no good can come from this, Butters starts fidgeting uncontrollably.

"Oh God. Oh Jesus. Eric Cartman, putting me in the middle of a great big mess again. I swear ..." He runs a hand through his blond hair, leaving it out of place.

The same way he knows this is no good, Butters knows he has to go down there. It's better to risk whatever funny business Eric might have planned if he's lying than to risk being eaten by aliens. No way are aliens getting him if he has anything to say about it.

He understands he has to go into the bomb shelter. But he can't. He can't do it. He tries to be a good boy, so it's hard to go where only bad can happen. It feels as though opening the door and descending the ladder into that dark, confined space would be to accept every bad thing in his life, future and past, and allow it power over him.

This feeling stirs a slumbering piece of his personality. The selfish one that rebels against his obsequious nature. The wicked one that revels in the perversion of order and normality. The one that makes him invincible.

Butters thinks, if Eric messes with him, he won't get away with it. Ditto the aliens.

Maybe.

"Oh boy."

The door opens with its whale cry, and Butters climbs into the depths of the underground shelter.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

"That's me."

Want to know what happens next time? Tune in next time to find out what happens next time!


	4. Butters: Invasion

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

" _Say my name, you know who I am, I'm too hot_ ," Butters sings as he descends the ladder into the bomb shelter. " _Am I bad about that money_."

It's colder than Butters remembers down here. He thinks the light switch is on the right. Fumbling along the wall, he hits it.

" _Girls hit your hallelujah. Girls hit your hallelujah. Girls hit your hallelujah. Because uptown funk is going to give it to you_."

Singing and dancing in the newly lit, confined space, Butters forgets all the weirdness ever. He doesn't see the provisions left on the floor, doesn't think of Eric, and forgets all about the ...

" _Because uptown funk is going to give it to you. Because uptown funk is going to give it to you. Saturday night and we are in the spot. Don't believe me, just watch_!"

Butters breaks into his best rendition of the Bruno Mars dance in the music video: a robot whose movements are more fluid and flamboyant.

" _Don't believe me, just watch_."

(He hopes Eric doesn't interrupt.)

" _Don't believe me, just watch. Don't believe me, just watch. Don't believe me, just watch. Don't believe me, just watch. Hey, hey, hey,_ OHHHWAH?"

Butters is thrown to the hard floor in the great din and tremors of what he imagines must be the result of something enormous crashing down to earth nearby. It doesn't last long. Butters gets into a sitting position and looks upward, waiting.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Eric is red and sweaty when he joins Butters underground a little while later. "I just made it," he says, too out of breath to scream. "I hope they don't know we're here."

"What happened out there?" Butters has stood and now reels back in horror at the vague implications of Eric's entrance.

"One of their ships just fell out of the sky."

"Yeah, I felt it!"

"The rest of the fleet went back up. But they might come back any mome-- _Oh that might be them now_."

Muffled underground, there come the sounds of whirring, beeping and humming as if from many sources.

" _Oh Jesus_."

All sounds cease at once. Then there's a single roar of sound.

Butters grips the other boy's jacket. " _Eric, what are we gonna do_?"

"Calm down, Butters." Eric shakes the smaller boy off. "We prepared for this, remember."

"We did?"

"Last week. Now hold tight, Butters. I'm going to see if I can do anything to stop those goddamn aliens." Eric grabs a rung on the ladder.

"Wait!" Butters grabs him again. "You can't go up there."

"Everyone we know is in danger, Butters. I have to do something. I can't just sit here and let those bastards win."

Butters takes a couple steps back. He can't speak.

"You stay here, Butters. If this is it for me, ..." Eric trails off then leaves without saying goodbye.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Butters hears the most incredible noise, some of it beautiful. He lies on his back, maybe the last human on earth, and feels like his soul could rise out of its body and fly to outer space, maybe even fight the aliens as a ghost. He dwells on the past wealth of his human experience and thinks of everything that might be taken away. Mourning, he sighs.

"No more snickerdoodles."

It's long after Eric has left when the noise dies down. The manied thrumming again sounds and stops. After long silence the hatch opens up, with its unearthly wail. Looking at the opening, Butters sees only a black hole.

"Eric, is that you?"

Silence continues, so Butters stands up. Then he doesn't know whether he should move closer to the ladder and the hatch or if he should run (where?), so he becomes frozen.

"Wh-Who's there?"

Butters shivers.

"If you're gonna eat me--"

A red bundle slides down the ladder and turns on Butters. "Butters, you're still here. Did anyone else come in here?"

"Eric! Well I don't think so-- Whoa. Hey." Eric Cartman has his hands all over him. "What's the big idea?"

"Hold still, Butters. I have to make sure it's you." The tip of Eric's tongue sticks out from the corner of his mouth, and he wears a look of intense concentration as his hands roam. When he finally steps back he says, "That was the whole point of last week, if you had listened."

Butters covers his mouth with a sleeve-covered hand. "Well. I'm sure sorry I got mad at you then, Eric."

"That's not important."

Eric is so grim; Butters gasps.

"What is it? What did you see out there?"

"Oh it was awful, Butters. All those people. Our friends. Our families."

"What?" Butters grabs his shoulders. "What, Eric?"

"They took them."

"What do you mean? Where are they going?"

"They just--" He describes it with his hand. "--sucked them up into their ships."

" _Oh. God_."

"People came back, but they came back different."

"Different how?"

Eric barely speaks above a whisper: "I think they're alien clones."

"Alien clones?"

"Yes, Butters. You and I are the only humans left in South Park. We have to stick together from here on out."

Eric sets his feet shoulder-length apart and puts his arms straight out. "So you have to touch me, Butters, all over."

"What?" Butters takes a step back.

"This way you'll be able to tell next time whether it's really me or only an alien pretending to be me."

"Oh," Butters says, horrified. "All right. I--"

Butters hesitates. Understanding in theory and agreeing in principle is nothing compared to physically putting his hands all over Eric Cartman for the purpose of remembering what his body feels like.

"Butters, do you understand what's at stake here?"

Moaning, Butters acquiesces. With swift motions he places both hands on Eric's chest and slides them down to his huge stomach. He grabs his upper arms and shoulders; pats his head.

"Everywhere, Butters. The aliens might have a weak spot they don't know how to copy well."

After touching Eric's legs and back Butters, quickly and cursorily, moves his hand to Eric's crotch.

"Eric, your weiner is hard again!"

"That happens after you hit puberty, Butters. Guys get erections all the time and sometimes it's for no reason. Don't worry about it."

"O-Okay," Butters says, shuddering. At least it's over.

Eric's face has begun to redden, but his voice is matter of fact. "Very good, Butters. Now we'll have to do that every time we meet, so we know we're not talking to an alien clone."

"Ohhh." Butters closes his eyes and thinks of cute animals and delicious pastries and everything good. Anything not to think about he and Eric touching each other again.

"Don't say anything to anyone about aliens. Everyone around here is probably an alien, and there's no telling what they might do to you if they find out you've escaped them once already. They'll probably probe your mind and find out about me." Eric grabs Butters by the shoulders and shakes him, shouting in his face: " _Don't you dare let the aliens find out about me. Not after I saved your life tonight_."

"Okay! Okay, Eric! I won't say nothin!"

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

"Th-That-That's me. Yeah."

Tune in next time to see what tangerines, circus tricks and a flamethrower have to do with anything.


	5. Butters: First Day of High School

Sneaking into his house this time is much scarier than sneaking out was. If his parents had found him climbing out his window, they would have grounded him (more than he was already) and maybe spanked him (though they seemed to think he was too old for that now). If his alien parents catch him climbing in the window, they might eat parts of him while he's forced to watch, or turn him inside out, or--worst of all--force Eric's plan out of Butters and make _him_ angry. He tries to be more careful than ever and even so slips a few times and manages to fall with a heavy thud to his bedroom floor. He almost wets himself, waiting to see what will happen, but nothing does.

So he goes to sleep. Or tries to anyway. The first day of school is always too exciting for sleep the night before. Only now his excitement has become terror. He thinks he manages to fit in well enough at school, even if he's sporadically outcast. Now if he fails to fit in, he might have aliens touching his brain or turning his skin green or abducting him to another galaxy. It's too much, but he must fall asleep, because one time he opens his eyes he sees sunlight flooding his room. Funny how the sun still shines the same way.

While getting dressed he hears his parents downstairs in the kitchen. His alien parents, that is. Though the sounds they make--silverware clinking on plates, mouths forming words--are normal enough to Butters, the knowledge of their strange origin sets his nerves on edge. It's with great reluctance that he joins them for breakfast.

"Morning, Butters," says one alien parent and then the other. Butters is speechless.

"We know you don't sleep well before the first day of school," Alien Dad says, "so your mom made you a big breakfast." On the table Butters sees eggs sunny side up, French toast, bacon, milk and orange juice.

"Thanks, Alien Mom."

"You're welcome, But-- What?"

"What did you call your mother?"

"Oh, I mean Mom. Thanks, Mom."

"Of course."

Linda goes back to washing dishes, Stephen to his newspaper, while the confused boy breaks his fast.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Everyone in the hallways is recognizable, but it takes a moment. There are subtle changes to everyone. A sharpness in a face where there was once roundness. Differences in how hair looks. Changes in gaits. When Butters bumps into someone he says:--

"Ahhh! Don't eat me!" Then he turns around.

Alien Wendy Testaburger is smiling. "Oh you were there last night?"

"Huh?"

"Everyone was."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Very funny, Butters." She really seems to think so.

"You're taller." Butters takes a step back.

"It's a growth spurt. They happen during puberty. It's absolutely normal." Alien Wendy sounds snarky. Then she chuckles, coughs - a sound that seems so natural - and says, "I mean--I appear before you in my customary visage, yellow human."

Butters looks around - for what? for Eric? He spots Alien Clyde, who seems to be glaring at him then looks away.

Backing up further, he bumps into someone else. It's Alien Kenny, who says something, but Butters doesn't understand. Coming into contact with his alien anatomy is having an overwhelming biological effect. It's similar to heat stroke.

"Don't ... Don't ..." And then he falls. He thinks he hears Alien Kenny cursing. Someone shouting - maybe Eric. And that's it.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

He wakes up in what he figures out is the nurse's office. The clock says only a few minutes have passed. The nurse asks him about symptoms then says he should be fine.

"Do you want to call for a ride home," asks the nurse, "or do you think you're okay?" She seems like a nice alien lady.

Butters doesn't know what he should do. Eric told him to act normally. He's supposed to be fitting in.

"I guess I freaked out back there, huh."

"I guess so. You get a drink from one of the fountains and you should be fine."

He can't imagine getting through the rest of the school day with all those eyes looking out at him from these figures all around. It can't be as bad as what would happen if he drew too much attention, though. He's already had enough trouble.

"Guess so. Bye, alie-- I mean: bye, nurse."

"Wait. You'll be late to class. Here's a slip."

So Butters walks to his first class, and almost every eye is on him. (Alien Craig looks like he's asleep at his desk.) He laughs nervously. "Hello, folks." He hands the teacher his slip, too terrified to be able to tell what he or she looks like, and takes an empty seat.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

"What do you want, Butters?" Eric says at lunch. Eric is seated at a table with the usual guys and sounds irritated. Butters figures he's just acting normal.

"Oh, nothin," he says, and starts to walk away.

"Hey, Butters. Over here."

Turning his head this way and that, Butters finally sees Wendy waving. She wants him to sit with her and a bunch of alien girls. Oh brother.

He expects her to say something about the episode in the hall; call him weird; laugh about it more; show concern. But she doesn't mention it, and neither does anyone else. Alien Bebe just says, "As I was saying," and continues with what she was saying.

They speak with such ordinary phrases as "That teacher is so annoying!" and "I love your shoes!" and "Isn't that right, Millie?" Their voices are familiar, but if Butters closes his eyes and stops listening to the words, it sounds like strange, high-pitched noise communicating secret messages. Butters is too nervous to say anything himself, but no one seems to find this strange or offensive.

The alien girls have a different energy, too. Not only in their voices but also in their skin. Their bodies have different shapes now. They don't even sit the same way.

Red makes him the most uncomfortable. Knowing it's not the real Red makes almost no difference. Especially when Butters doesn't know what the matter is. This alien representation of the girl with firetruck hair still makes him a little queasy. Maybe he likes her, he thinks.

Alien Red catches Butters looking at her and winks at him. He looks away, feeling his face tingle.

Everything is so confusing.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Back in his bedroom, Butters is free again from perplexing presences. Without thinking, he gets on Facebook.

Clyde is talking about football practice and posting to Stan's wall that he better keep his grades up this year so he can stay on the team.

Bebe and Millie have shared selfies from the mall.

Eric is complaining about possibly all of his new teachers. And Kyle is arguing against his opinions.

Dougie has a post about testing new sound and video equipment in his basement. Butters eyes grow wide when he sees it's from the night before. Maybe Dougie was safe from the alien attack, if he was underground.

Maybe Butters and Eric aren't the only humans left.

♫ _Everyone Knows It's Butters_ ♫

Stay tuned for more of--


	6. Kenny: School's In

When you can’t die and you’ve got shit all to lose, you’re reckless like a cowboy in a black hat. It’s the first day of high school but like the sixth day of middle school, so Kenny’s already gotten Karen up and on the bus. He’d kissed her on the cheek, thrown some prepackaged shit into a plastic sack from the 7-ll down the road, and sent her off to school.

“Learn somethin’.” He’d called after her. “And don’t talk to any of them boys. They ain’t got shit to do with you.”

There were still a few pills in the coat pocket of Kenny’s orange parka and he’d tossed them back with a swig of Red Bull. He’d given the last of the food in the house to Karen and when you’re high you’re not thinking about being hungry. If you’re lucky, you’re not thinking about nothing...

They didn’t set in until the middle of home room and Kenny knew it would be like this. He likes to have his wits about him while he’s driving. He’d seen Barbrady in the same stupid 1989 cop car the officer had been driving since before Kenny was even a blip on his parents’ broken radars and leaned forwards to light a cigarette. Barbrady had a Bismarck in one hand and a loose game hen sitting shotgun. The cop waved to him as Kenny head off in the direction of SP High. 

He’d walked through the doors vaguely wondering if his brother had ever done the same thing, or if he’d already been missing school by the time he’d turned 15. Kenny wasn’t a great student, but he wasn’t dumb either. He was good with numbers. He could read music. He wrote okay too. It wasn’t like SP High was some kind of prep school either. You did your time. You got out. You got drunk. Sometimes Kenny died. Sometimes he saw God- that blue hippo hamster, mother-fucker. Sometimes he saw the devil with some new boyfriend or whatever. Sometimes he just woke up in his bed like nothing happened. Either way, life went on.

Stan and Eric were already in home room by the time Kenny slumped in. The pills were starting to take now and everything seemed a little like it was made out of Styrofoam. 

“Hey Kenny.” Stan calls, not looking at him. He’s leaned over his desk, looking at his schedule with Eric. “Who do you have for US History, Cartman?”

“Mrs. Hag-German.” Eric says, sounding the name out. “You think she’s a Nazi?”

“It’s pronounced, ‘Haggerman,’ you retard.” Stan says.

“That’s a hate word.” Cartman says. “You’re not supposed to say it anymore. It’s offensive to freaks like Jimmy.”

“F-f-fuck you, Fat-t-t-tits.” Jimmy calls back.

“I’m not fat,” Eric says. “I’m real size.”

“Real fat.” Kenny mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck you, Kenny.” Cartman says. “Maybe I’d look like you do if I was on meth too, you white trash asshole.”

“I’m not on meth.” Kenny mutters. He’s on DXM. He thinks...

“Jimmy Valmer- watch your language! Eric Cartman- sit down before you break that desk! Kenny McCormick- stop having drug trips in my classroom!” Garrison yells from the front of the room. “It’s bad enough that I’m stuck with you little bastards for another year.”

“I thought he retired.” Stan says.

“Nah,” Eric says. “He was going to and then Caitlyn Jenner dumped him.”

“That makes sense.” Stan shrugs. 

“Is that why he’s a man again?” Kenny asks. 

“I... I don’t know.” Stan says, looking unconcerned. “What class do you have first, Kenny?”

“US History.” Kenny reads from his schedule. “With Haggerman.” 

“I heard she’s a Nazi.” Eric says.

Red is waiting for him outside home room. He thinks. It could be another pair of boobs with red hair and lips talking to him too fast for him to really comprehend right now. The boobs are asking him what he’s doing after school and Kenny says something about work. He’s got a job with the town’s mechanic, an old guy with outdated equipment who doesn’t mind Kenny getting a few fatal injuries every now and then so long as he keeps showing up for work. Kenny catches Red around the waist, laughing as he imagines the number of funerals he’s had over the years. He thinks there’s only been like two. His pal, Butters wanders into view and Kenny winks at him. He’d go over and talk to him, maybe try to see if he wants to meet up later or something, but his arms are full of Red and his mind is full of Styrofoam. He thinks Butters falls over. He’s not sure. 

“Wha...” Kenny asks to no one in particular. 

“I heard Butters got like narcolepsy or something over the summer.” Eric says to him, all knowing and fat like a pale Buddah. “He’s like, really self-conscious about it. He told me he just wants everyone to leave him alone.” 

“‘kay...” Kenny shrugs. “You got a light?” 

“We’re in school.” Cartman raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh, yeah...” Kenny says. “You got a pencil?”


End file.
